


Good Yule

by Odd_ysseus



Series: What Ever Happened to Happy Endings? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Cedric Diggory Lives, Dancing, Fluff, Gen, Holding Hands, M/M, Not all the tagged pairings are permanent btw, Okay there it was, Voldemort Dies, When I typed in 'Hand' all that showed up was sex acts and kinks, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:05:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14607873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odd_ysseus/pseuds/Odd_ysseus
Summary: What ever happened to happy endings?





	1. Nerves Can be Scary and Flattering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cedric has absolutely no chill. Also Harry and Hermione are my platonic otp. Seriously.

            “Pot – Harry!”

            Harry looked around, his stomach swooping slightly at the familiar voice.

            “Cedric?” Harry said rather dumbly.

            Cedric Diggory pulled to a stop in front him as he exited the dungeons.  Ron and Hermione were beside him, a weirdly tense atmosphere between them.  Cedric opened his mouth, then closed it and cleared his throat.

            “Can I have a word?” he got out after a moment.

            “Er… sure,” Harry said. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he told Ron and Hermione.

            Ron and Hermione walked off, and Harry ascertained from their merely somewhat curious expressions that they were not as discombobulated by this development as Harry was.

            Cedric led him through the throngs of students in the Entrance Hall toward a much less crowded corridor.  They didn’t speak during their walk, and Harry spent the silence wondering what this could be about.  He’d only really been aware of Cedric since his Third Year ( _Diggory was taller than Harry by about a head, and Harry couldn’t help noticing, nervous as he was, that Diggory was incredibly handsome_ ) and had spoken to him all of twice.  Actually, only once, really.  A brief greeting at the Quidditch World Cup did not really constitute speaking.  The one time he had spoken to Cedric was to pass on an “anonymous tip” on the contents of the first task.  Perhaps it was to thank him for that?  No, he’d already thanked Harry when he’d told him.

            His train of thought halted when they’d finally come to a relatively private spot.  They stood there in silence for a few awkward moments.  Cedric’s face had a rather constipated look to it, and it was such an unusual and fundamentally wrong look on him that Harry found it in himself to break the silence.

            “Did you need – ?”

            “Will you go to the ball with me?”

            Cedric looked mortified, which could have been because he had basically just shouted at Harry, startling him enough for him to flinch back and his eyes to widen.  Instinctual responses, because Harry’s brain had stopped functioning and instinctual responses were likely all he was capable of at that moment.

            “Come again?” croaked Harry.

            Cedric still looked embarrassed, but he straightened his back and squared his shoulders, looking much more like the champion he was supposed to be.  The redness of his cheeks ruined the effect a little, but Harry decided not to hold it against him.

            “Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asked again, much more calmly than before.

            “Okay,” said Harry.  He wondered when Snape managed to slip him a hallucinatory potion.

            Not-Cedric beamed at him, while Harry was still wondering when his hallucinations had become so vivid.

            “Well, I guess we’d better get to dinner,” not-Cedric said eventually, after a fair few awkward moments of silence.

            Harry nodded.  He felt like he should say something to break the continuing silence, but his mind was drawing a complete blank. In any case, it wasn’t as if Harry had to worry much about embarrassment in front of a hallucination, did he?  They paused outside the doors of the Great Hall, and not-Cedric gave him a somewhat sheepish smile.

            “I suppose I’ll see you at Christmas?” he said.

            Harry blinked. “Oh, uh, yeah,” Harry managed to get out.  It wasn’t very eloquent, but again – hallucination.

            He separated from not-Cedric and walked toward Gryffindor table while the latter walked to Hufflepuff.  Harry was a bit thrown off when the other Hufflepuffs cheerily greeted the illusion as he sat down among them.  Shaking it off, Harry went and sat beside Hermione – Ron was mysteriously absent – and is further thrown off-balance by her immediate question:

            “What did Cedric want to talk to you about?”

            Harry froze.  So Hermione saw the illusion too.  So did the Hufflepuffs.  If they saw him then that meant Not-Cedric actually was Cedric.  If he actually was Cedric, then –

            “He just asked me to the ball,” Harry whispered in panic.

            Hermione squeaked and stared at him. “What did you say?” she hissed-whispered.

            “Er…yes.  I said yes,” said Harry.

            Hermione blinked, and her stare turned piercing. “Wait, I didn’t even know you… liked other boys,” she said carefully and a little accusingly.

            “It never came up,” Harry said lamely.

            Hermione huffed, and then she gave him a smile and a pat on the arm. “I suppose it didn’t.  Well, I’m happy if you’re happy, Harry,” she told him.

            Harry smiled at her, then suddenly a thought popped into his head. “Hey, Hermione.  Do you have a date to the ball yet?” he asked.

            To his slight surprise, Hermione actually blushed.

            Harry’s eyes widened. “You do, don’t you?” he leaned forward. “Who is it?” he asked her in a low voice.

            “Viktor Krum,” she said, barely above a whisper.

            Harry’s eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. “Krum, really?  How did that happen?”

            “That’s why he was spending all of his time in the library.  He was trying to build up the nerve to talk to me,” she was so red by now she was comparable to the Gryffindor banners. “He finally built up the nerve, and asked me just a few days ago.”

            “Congratulations, Hermione,” Harry said, patting her on the shoulder.  Privately, Harry felt he knew of someone who would not be so supportive.  Someone who was suspiciously absent.

            “Hey, where’s Ron?” Harry asked.

            “I’m not sure.  He stopped to talk to Ginny, but he should have been here by now,” Hermione said unconcernedly. “It is quite unlike him to miss a meal,” she commented. “I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually.”

            However, Ron failed to appear for dinner.  Harry and Hermione eventually tired of waiting and left the Great Hall to return to Gryffindor Tower.  Hermione was still unconcerned, but Harry was slightly worried.  It really _wasn’t_ like Ron to miss a meal.  Harry resolved that if they didn’t find Ron in the common room, he’d go check the Marauder’s Map.

            It was for naught, because Ron was in the common room when they arrived.  It was apparent though that something did happen, something terrible.  He was ashen-faced, sat in the far corner of the common room.  Ginny was with him, speaking to him in a way not unlike someone who looked like they were trying to talk somebody from jumping off a ledge.  Harry walked over immediately, Hermione following behind.

            “What’s up, Ron?” Harry asked.

            Ron had a look of horror on his face as he looked up at Harry.

            “I-I…” he appeared to be beyond words.

            “What?” said Harry.

            It was Ginny who answered, and Harry now noticed that she seemed to be trying to repress a smile. “He just asked Fleur Delacour to the ball,” she said.

            “What?” Harry gaped.  Next to him, Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth, but Harry had the feeling it wasn’t out of horror or any sort of commiseration with Ron.

            “Why did I do it?” Ron had finally found his voice. “She was just standing there!  Everyone around – the whole damn school watching!  I walked by her and – I-“ Ron had lost his voice again.  He put his face in his hands, groaning.

            “He sort of screamed it at her, actually,” added Ginny. “It was really quite frightening.”

            Harry winced in sympathy.  Hermione, however, had only just repressed her laughter.

            “Eloise Midgen isn’t looking so bad now, is she?” she mocked.

            “It’s mad, I’ll tell you, mad!” Ron ignored Hermione’s jab and looked desperately to Harry. “Me and you have got to be the only two blokes in the whole school without dates!”

            Harry winced.  He wondered how to break it to Ron that he actually _did_ have a date.  Before he was forced to answer for it, a look of sudden inspiration came over Ron’s face.

            “Hey!  You two are girls!” he said, looking between Hermione and Ginny.

            Everything froze.  Ginny stopped patting her brother’s arm, her smile falling away and becoming a snarl.  Hermione’s eyes narrowed in rage and Harry was genuinely scared for his friend.

            “Oh, _well spotted_ ,” said Hermione through her teeth.

            Ron was somehow ignorant of the danger he was now in. “Well, you can come with me and Ginny can go with Harry!” he continued to dig his own grave.  Ginny suddenly looked sullen and disappointed.

            “I’m already going with someone,” said Hermione venomously.

            “No, you’re not!” said Ron.

            “She is,” Harry cut in. “And I sort of have a date, too,” he added quickly.

            Ron gaped at him with a betrayed expression. “You actually got a date?” he shouted in indignation. “Who?” he looked between both Harry and Hermione.

            “It’s none of your business,” Hermione snapped, then she stormed off toward the girl’s dorm, leaving a gob-smacked Ron.

            “Who is she going with?” asked Ron, turning to Harry.

            Harry sighed. “She just said that it’s none of your business,” he told Ron.

            Ron gaped at him. “I’m your best friend!” he said indignantly.

            “She’s my best friend, too,” Harry pointed out, actually starting to get a little miffed. “And, I repeat, it is _her_ business.”

            Ron huffed. “I was your best friend first,” he pointed out.

            Harry finally became properly angry. “And that means I should start telling you all of Hermione’s secrets, does it?  Fuck off, Ron.” Harry whirled around and marched back toward the portrait hole.  He did not even stop to apologize to Parvati and Lavender as he jostled them on his way out.

            Harry was at the bottom of the steps before he heard “Wait, Harry!” behind him.  Harry paused to allow Ginny to catch up with him.

            “Hey, Ginny.  What’s up?” Harry grumbled half-heartedly.

            “Nothing.  Ron just seemed like he was on the edge of a pretty big rant and I thought I’d like to get some dinner.  Walk with me?” she asked.

            Harry shrugged and agreed.  He’d already eaten, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be.  He and Ginny walked in surprisingly companionable silence for a few seconds.  Considering the crush she had nursed for him for as long as he had known her, there was very little awkward tension.

            “So Hermione told you who she was going with?” Ginny asked after a few moments.

            Harry looked askance at her. “Yeah.  At dinner.  Did she tell you?”

            “She did,” Ginny confirmed. “It is kind of cute, though.  The way he was waiting around for her in the library.”

            “I suppose so,” Harry agreed. “I think Hermione could have done without the Viktorias though,” he quipped.

            Ginny laughed and Harry felt his mood lift a little. “Are you going with anyone?” he asked her.

            “Yes, Neville,” Ginny said, a little dourly. “He asked me after Hermione turned him down – did you know he asked her?  Anyway, I figured it was the only way I’d be able to go, so…”

            Harry nodded. “I can’t say I’m not scared for your toes, but Neville’s a nice bloke.”

            “That is true,” Ginny said with a small smile. “So who is this mystery date of yours?” she asked a little too casually.

            Harry felt a blush heat up his cheeks and a small swell of butterflies in his stomach. “Cedric Diggory,” he whispered.

            Ginny’s eyes widened. “Cedric Diggory?” she parroted. “Damn, Harry.  I can’t say I’m not impressed.  How did that happen?”

            “He asked me before dinner today,” Harry said. “I actually thought it was a hallucination at first,” he joked. “Come to think of it, though, I don’t think I could have imagined something like that.  He basically yelled it at me at first,” Harry said.

            Ginny grinned at him. “That’s so sweet,” she teased.

            Harry grinned back, but then caught a movement out of the corner of his eye when they entered the Entrance Hall. “Hey, I’m going to go talk to Remus, Ginny.  I’ll see you later?” When Ginny acquiesced, probably disappointed she wouldn’t get to _really_ start teasing him, Harry dashed off to meet the professor at the bottom of the stairs.

            “Hey, Professor Lupin!” Harry called.  Remus paused on the second step to wait for Harry to meet him.

            “Hello, Harry.  Did you need something?” Remus asked.

            “No.  Just wanted to talk,” Harry said innocently.

            “Ah.  My office, then?” Remus asked, a grin on his face.

            The grin unnerved Harry a little bit, but he agreed and followed Remus back up the stairs and through the corridors.  They chatted a little bit along the way about mundane topics; Harry’s grades (Harry had done excellently on his essay on methods of concealment, to his delight) and Remus’s classes (no less than three fifth years had ended up stunning themselves) among other things.  When they were safely inside Remus’s office, however, he pounced.

            “So, this little talk wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a ‘little talk’ you may have had before dinner with Mr Diggory, would it?” Remus’s grin turned into a devilish smirk.

            Harry gaped. “How did you know about that?” he demanded indignantly.

            “You two walked into the Great Hall together,” Remus pointed out patiently. “That and you looked like you had been hexed in the best way and Mr Diggory looked like he had just won the Tri-Wizard Tournament already.”

            Harry felt a rush of pleasure at Remus’s description as well as embarrassment.  He did his best to repress it though, not wanting to give Remus more ammunition.

            “Yeah, well, we’re going to the ball together,” Harry said, his tone the oddest mix of crabby and happy. “So have you asked Sirius yet?”

            Remus’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes did soften. “He beat me to it, actually.”

            “Good,” Harry said.  It was so sad that even Harry would notice the way the two circled around each other, apparently picking off from where they’d left off before Sirius went to Azkaban.  The worst thing was that now they had Harry to use as a deflector to deal with it. “It was, frankly, quite pathetic.”

            “Do you the talk to all of your professors this way?” Remus gave him a look.

            “Just the ones who I have blackmail on,” Sirius was quite generous with stories of their Hogwarts days.

            Remus narrowed his eyes. “If that is all, then you can get out of my office, you little terror,” he said with no heat.

            Harry grinned but paused, remembering the second reason he’d wanted to talk to Remus. “Before I go, I was wondering if since Sirius is going to be with you at the ball…” he trailed off, trying for his most pleading expression.

            Remus arched one unimpressed eyebrow. “You want me to prevent Sirius from embarrassing you in front of Mr Diggory?” he ascertained. “You’re going to ask me to do that right after you threatened to blackmail me?”

            Harry winced. “I kind of shot myself in the foot with that one, didn’t I?”

            “Quite.” Remus smirked.  Undoubtedly Harry’s embarrassment would now be ten times worse. “Good luck, Harry.”


	2. Who Knew Boggarts Were so Sexy?

            The final days before the Winter Holidays slipped past like water over a streambed.  Ron and Hermione remained frosty with each other.  Actually, things hadn’t been so great between Harry and Ron either, as Ron was still angry that Harry had taken Hermione’s side over his by not telling him who her date was.  Harry wasn’t telling about Cedric either, although he would have if Hermione hadn’t decided that the both of them were keeping their dates secret out of solidarity. 

            Considering that, after a bit of self-reflection and a long talk with Sirius, the estrangement over the Firebolt was distinctly unfair to her, Harry decided he couldn’t begrudge her this.

            Ron had tried to get back at them by not telling Harry and Hermione who his date was, when he did get a date.  However, anyone with ears knew that Romilda Vane was the only Gryffindor in second year who was going to the ball, a piece of news that had come about exactly when Ron had said he’d gotten a date. 

            Fred and George had a field day with this, of course.  They particularly enjoyed asking how much Mr and Mrs Vane were paying Ron for babysitting, if Romilda was getting an extension on her bedtime for the occasion, etcetera.  Romilda wasn’t actually that much younger, thank goodness.  Her birthday was sometime in September, so she was thirteen.  She was less than a month younger than Ginny, even.  Did that stop the twins?  Not even a little bit.

            Harry sort of felt like Ron should have been able to guess who Harry’s date was, at least.  Cedric frequently waved at Harry while passing in the corridors.  The way Cedric’s friends smirked and giggled and waved at Harry as well (even when Cedric wasn’t around) should have tipped off Ron that something was going on.  Unless, of course, there was some other perfectly acceptable reason that Harry would suddenly be popular with the Hufflepuffs that he wasn’t seeing.

            “So who is Hermione going to the ball with?” Ron asked casually.

            “You’ll find out in a few minutes,” Harry snapped, adjusting his tie and trying to pat his hair down.  It was Ron’s latest tactic; randomly asking Harry and Hermione who they’re going to the ball with and see if he can startle out an answer.  Lately he had been shaking it up by asking them who the _other_ was going to the ball with.

            He looked over at Ron and immediately grimaced.  Ron had tried to improve upon the ghastly robes by severing off the lace.  It had worked partially, but the edges were still frayed.  Harry very nearly told him who he was going with out of pity, but it would only be a temporary relief.

            Harry looked in the mirror again and grimaced before giving his hair up as a lost cause.

            They headed down to the common room, which was full to the brim with people in dress robes all shuffling about.  Beside him, Ron was looking out over the crowd of people.  Harry entertained for a second the thought that he was looking for his date. Then he saw Romilda Vane, in a pair of black and silver dress robes that most definitely were not appropriate for a girl her age.  Ron’s eyes skipped over her without a second glance.

            “Er, I’m going to go ahead to the entrance hall.  I’ll meet you later – have fun with Romilda,” Harry said, subtly trying to remind Ron of his own date.

            Ron paid it no heed.  He merely mumbled a “Later” to dismiss Harry.  Shrugging resignedly, Harry wove through the people toward the portrait hole.  He felt a little hot around the collar when Fred winked at him on his way out.

            Cedric was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs to the entrance hall.  He was wearing yellow dress robes, which were actually somehow flattering on him.  His dark hair was slick and coiffed and Harry was suddenly even more self-conscious about his enduring bedhead.  Cedric beamed, though, as Harry strode down the steps to meet him.  When Harry came to a stop in front of Cedric, he was standing on the bottom step, which evened out their heights.

            “Going for house pride, I see?” Harry said, looking up and down Cedric’s form.

            Cedric shrugged. “Kind of.  Tonight seems like a night for adventure, so I thought I’d have a little fun with my dress,” he explained. “You look amazing,” he continued, looking up and down at Harry’s green dress robes.

            “Thanks.  And I like the yellow – it suits you,” Harry said, amazed that he hasn’t tripped over his words yet.

            Cedric made an abortive movement with his arm.  Harry realized what he is intending pretty quickly, and hesitates for a second.  He’s already shorter than Cedric, and he doesn’t want everybody to automatically think that he’s…

            He stopped that thought in its track, visions of what Hermione would do if she could hear his thoughts right then filling his head.  Instead, he reached out and put his hand through the crook of Cedric’s arm.  It was instantly worth it when Cedric gave him a bright smile in response.

            “Champions over here, please!”

            Harry and Cedric wove through the crowd toward where McGonagall was standing.  Harry took a moment to wonder if someone had somehow forced the wreath of thistles onto the professor’s head.  It was rather too ugly to be a fashion choice and McGonagall did not seem like the type to do something for the sake of quirk.  She did a very noticeable double-take when she saw Harry and Cedric approach together, but gave herself a quick shake and recovered with aplomb.

            Fleur, stunning as usual in silvery robes, was accompanied by Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain.  In the name of admitting fully to his sexuality, Harry could say to himself that Davies was pretty fit.  Harry also thought he seemed like a bit of a git, an assumption not helped by the way he couldn’t stop staring at Fleur, who had done a double-take at Cedric and Harry with unflattering astonishment.

            A sleeker-than-normal Hermione dressed in periwinkle blue robes beamed at Harry when she saw them.  Viktor looked mildly surprised but otherwise showed no real expression.

            “Hi Harry!” Hermione said excitedly “Hi Cedric!”

            “Hello, Hermione,” said Cedric politely.

            “Wow, Hermione.  What did you do with your hair?  It looks great,” Harry asked.

            She grinned. “A lot of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion.”

            Harry’s grandfather had invented the stuff, a fact told to him by Sirius.  Now, he could hit himself for not thinking of it.  He voiced this opinion to Hermione.

            “I like your hair,” Cedric said immediately.

            Harry blushed and Hermione giggled in such a un-Hermione way that Harry wondered if Sleekeazy’s affected the brain somehow.  The doors to the Great Hall opened, and the students started pouring in.  Hermione and Harry were getting a multitude of looks, from baffled amazement to murderous rage (mostly for Hermione from the Viktorias).

            After a few minutes, after everyone was settled in the Great Hall, McGonagall returned to lead the champions and their dates inside.  They were treated to more scandalized whispers and Harry was a bit surprised to see him and Hermione getting more attention than Fleur.  Apparently, scandal triumphed over beauty any day.

            They were led up to a large round table occupied by the judges.  Harry carefully avoided the eyes of Mr Crouch – he still remembered their last encounter at the Quidditch World Cup.  He ended up sitting beside Hermione, with the two of them sandwiched between Cedric and Viktor.

            They all stared at their empty plates for a moment before Dumbledore took the lead, saying ‘Pork-chops’ to his empty plate.  Everyone followed suit.  Harry thought about how much extra work this must mean for the House-elves.  But when he looked over to the side Hermione was focused on trying to teach Viktor how to say her name.

            “It’s Hermione, Viktor.  Her-my-oh-nee,” she sounded out, a small smile quirking her lips.

            “Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor tried.

            “I think she’s in for a battle, there.”

            Harry looked around and suddenly felt very rude for ignoring Cedric. “In his defense, I don’t think I’d know how to pronounce Hermione’s name, either, without hearing it aloud.  His accent probably isn’t helping, either,” he added kindly.

            “Probably not,” Cedric agreed in a whisper. “So… what Quidditch team do you support?”

            Harry blushed. “Er, I don’t actually have a team,” at Cedric’s aghast expression, Harry continued, “I wasn’t really able to follow the league until this past summer.  Ron has been trying to convert me to the Chudley Cannons, but…” Harry trailed off.

            “Oh Lord, please don’t support the Cannons,” Cedric groaned dramatically. “It’d be an exercise in masochism if there ever was one.  I’m a fan of the Tutshill Tornadoes, personally,” he said quite seriously.

            “Are you going to try to convert me?” Harry teased him.

            “Maybe,” Cedric said innocently.

            “Now, now, Viktor!” said Karkaroff loudly, cutting off something Viktor had been saying to Hermione, “don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!”

            “And what does he expect Hermione to do, invade the school?” Harry whispered, but a bit too loudly.  Cedric covered his mouth and cleared his throat to cover a laugh. 

            Dumbledore smiled, and shot Harry a quick glance and the he could have sworn Dumbledore winked before turning to address Karkaroff. “I think Harry has a point, Igor.  I highly doubt Miss Granger’s curiosity hides any ill intent.”

            Harry looked to the side.  Viktor was scowling and Hermione was looking down at her plate, cheeks red with embarrassment.

            “I’m not so sure about that,” Cedric whispered, much more effectively than Harry had. “I’ve heard you have a mean right hook, Granger.”

            Hermione looked up at Cedric, scandalized. “How did you ever find out about that?” she demanded.  Harry was curious, too; he didn’t recall anyone else being around when Hermione had punched Malfoy, and surely Malfoy wouldn’t have told anybody.

            Cedric smiled. “Hufflepuffs are very good at finding things out,” he winked at them.

            “I think I vant to hear this story,” Viktor said.

            Harry left an embarrassed Hermione to Viktor’s probing and turned to Cedric. “But seriously, how did you find that out?” he asked.

            Cedric shrugged. “I heard about it from Kevin Entwhistle, actually.” He took a sip of pumpkin juice, maintaining eye contact over the rim of his goblet and arching one eyebrow. “Good luck getting him to reveal _his_ sources, though.”

            Harry laughed, more cheerfully than he usually did.  He was starting to realize he hadn’t actually stopped smiling the entire night.

            Soon everyone had finished their respective meals and Dumbledore stood up, bidding everyone else to do the same.  A wave of his wand and the tables moved toward the wall, managing to maneuver around all of the attendants without knocking anyone over.  Another wave conjured a stage into existence, with a collection of instruments including a lute and set of bagpipes on it.

            A group of individuals dressed in what Harry could only describe as “Wizard Punk” with long shaggy hair, painted faces and artfully ripped robes trooped up onto the stage to wild applause.  Harry clapped too, glad he was finally able to put some faces to the name of the band he’d been hearing on-and-off on the Wireless.  The Weird Sisters started playing a slow tune.  Harry felt his heart jump into his throat when Cedric started leading him out onto the floor, suddenly remembering that the champions and their partners opened the Ball.

            “It’ll be fine, Harry,” Cedric said soothingly. “Just follow my lead and it will be over before you know it.”

            Harry nodded and focused on keeping his breathing even.  Cedric took his hands, placing one on his shoulder and keeping his hold on the other, lacing their fingers together.  His free hand went down to Harry’s waist.

            It could have been worse.  Cedric gently led Harry through a slow approximation of a waltz.  Multiple times Cedric had to remind Harry not to look at his feet.  Thankfully, pretty soon other couples began coming onto the dance floor.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville dancing with Ginny, who was wincing frequently but was trying to keep a smile on her face.

            Remus, looking dashing in simple black robes, led Sirius, dressed in more garish red robes, toward where Cedric and Harry were still dancing.  Harry felt the blood rush to his face but Cedric didn’t notice the approaching danger until it was too late.

            “Hand’s getting a little low there, Diggory,” Sirius growled.

            Cedric jumped in a very undignified fashion.  He turned around and went positively ashen when he met eyes with Sirius. “Uh – yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.” He stammered, straightening his back and trying to look as respectable as possible.

            Sirius’s dangerous expression melted away and he laughed. “Oh, I like this one.” He smiled at Cedric, baring every one of his teeth.  As he lead Sirius away, Remus caught Harry’s eye and winked.

            “Your Godfather’s kind of terrifying,” Cedric said.  He took Harry’s arms again, but this time his hand was closer to Harry’s armpit than his waist, and their bodies were a bit farther apart.

            “Sorry about that,” Harry said.

            “It’s not your fault,” Cedric said nobly. “Your Godfather has the right to be protective.”

            “Yes, but you see…” Harry said. “I may have tried to have a talk with Remus about keeping Sirius reined in and I may have accidentally made it worse instead.”

            Cedric looked at him in slight amazement. “How did you manage that?”

            Harry sheepishly explained his accidentally threatening to blackmail Remus.  Cedric found this to be the height of humor, and Harry couldn’t help but join in on his laughter.

            They were interrupted by The Weird Sisters ending their song and the dancers all breaking out into applause.  Then they started play a faster tune.  The lead guitarist stepped up to the microphone.

            “ALL RIGHT HOGWARTS!” he bellowed, “ARE YOU READY FOR SOME REAL MUSIC!?”

            Harry felt a twirl of panic as Cedric took a step back and started to shrug off his coat. “Cedric, I’m not sure – “ Harry began.

            “Come on, Harry!  This is the best kind of dancing – it’s supposed to be messy and bad!” Cedric encouraged.  He threw his coat over a random chair and smiled at Harry beseechingly.

            How could Harry resist that smile? “All right,” he said with forced bravado. He shrugged off his own coat and threw it over Cedric’s, pushing his glasses up his nose.

            “Here,” Cedric drew his wand and pointed it at Harry’s face. “ _Adhero temporalis_ ,” he said. “Now your glasses won’t go flying off.”

            “Thanks,” Harry said.  Then he spotted Hermione, standing with Viktor, who’d also shed his coat and looked looser and more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him. “Over there.” He said grabbing Cedric’s hand.  Cedric followed without complaint once he noticed where they were heading.

            A mosh pit had formed at the front of the stage.  Hermione and Viktor, thankfully, had stayed on the outer fringe of the wilder crowd.  Hermione spotted them quickly but barely got out a “Hi Harry!” before the song began proper.

            “We’re goin’ to teach you a brand new dance tonight!” the lead Sister said. “ _Are you ready!?_   ARE YOU READY!?”

            By this point even Harry found it in himself to lift his arms into the air and shout out his agreement.  At that moment, learning a new dance sounded like a very good idea.

            _“Move your body like a hairy troll, learning to rock and roll!  Spin around like a crazy elf – dancin’ by himself!  Boogie down like a unicorn!  No stoppin’ till the break of dawn!  Put your hands up in the air like an ogre who just don’t care!_

_“Oh! Can you dance like a hippogriff?  Na na na ma ma ny na na ny na!  Flyin’ off from a cliff! Na na na ma ma ny na na ny na!”_

            Harry laughed as he danced, amused by both the silliness of the song and watching Cedric dance.  Although Harry did have a small stroke when the singer instructed them to _“Shake your booty like a boggart in pain,”_ and Cedric turned around and did just that.  Harry became very conscious of how hot he was, with his hair beginning to stick to his forehead.

            “Would you like to get some drinks?” Cedric asked when the song had ended.

            “What?  Oh yeah, that’d be a great idea,” Harry said, noticing that he was feeling _very_ thirsty.

            “We’ll join you,” Hermione broke in.  Harry had forgotten she was there. “Why don’t you two go get us drinks while the two of us go find Ron?  We haven’t seen him all night.”

            Viktor looked reluctant but Cedric agreed gracefully.  The two set off for the refreshments table.

            Hermione linked her arm with Harry’s. “So, having a good time?” she asked him coquettishly.

            “I could ask you the same thing,” Harry retorted. “But yeah, I am.  You?”

            “Yes.  Viktor is – “

            Harry looked over at the sudden cutoff of Hermione’s sentence.  She was looking at some point ahead of her, jaw clenched and eyes burning with anger.  Harry followed her gaze and felt every part of him cringe.

            Romilda Vane was on Ron’s lap and appeared to be trying to devour his face.  If the way Ron had his arms around her waist was any indication, Ron didn’t mind in the least.

            “Maybe we should find a different table,” Harry said warily.

            “Yes.  We wouldn’t want to interrupt, after all,” Hermione said, voice far too cheerful.  She turned Harry, quite roughly, and led him in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm not going to turn this into Ron-bashing, despite what it seems like so far. But I've never really been a fan Romione so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. A Dip Below the Surface

            Hermione and Harry found a separate table as far away from Ron and Romilda as physically possible.  Still, Hermione continued to stare in their direction with intensity Harry was sure they must have been aware of.  Harry meanwhile stared around, looking for Cedric and Viktor.  Soon enough, both older students arrived, clutching drinks and looking confused.

            “We haff drinks,” Viktor said by way of greeting.

            Cedric handed a butterbeer to Harry. “What are you two doing over here? I thought – “ he cut off, clearly noticing the way Harry was shaking his head.  Or maybe it was his fear-filled eyes.  Either way, Cedric was blessedly smart enough to redirect the conversation. “Trudy Galston told me that Professor McGonagall made your Godfather and Professor Lupin leave the Hall.”

            Harry blinked in surprise. “Really, why?”

            “Inappropriate behavior on the dance floor,” Cedric said, completely deadpan.

            Hermione, meanwhile, had greeted Viktor with extreme enthusiasm, thanking him for bringing her a butterbeer with a kiss on the cheek.  She pressed into his side, to Viktor’s visible delight.  Harry looked away from them uncomfortably, to see Cedric looking at him with confusion etched on his face.  He rose his eyebrows at Harry in a silent question.

            “It’s complicated,” Harry said quietly in explanation.  Cedric nodded understandingly, and Harry decided to turn the subject in a different direction. “So how inappropriate are we talking about?  Is Remus going to be able to look anyone in the eye after break or what?”

            “I’m not so sure,” Cedric said, playing along. “Trudy was blushing just mentioning it.”

            “You know.  I’m starting to realize Hufflepuff has a very impressive gossip mill,” Harry said with faux-disapproval.

            “It’s nice being the most underestimated House, sometimes,” Cedric responded complacently.  There was also a hint of bitterness in his tone when he said _underestimated_ , however.  Harry really didn’t know what to say about this, not being great with comforting people.  Luckily Cedric spoke before Harry had to think of anything to say.

            “Would you like to go for a walk outside?” he asked. “I think Snape’s out there, but if we’re on path it should be okay.”

            Harry looked over to Hermione for a second, only to see she and Viktor absent. “Er, okay.” Harry grabbed his coat and pulled it back on.  Cedric grabbed his hand and, feeling hot around his collar, Harry allowed his date to lead him out of the Great Hall.

            The icy air bit into Harry’s face the second they slipped through the doors.  He held back a shiver.  He stuck the hand that wasn’t holding Cedric’s into his robe pocket.

            “They really outdid themselves, didn’t they?” said Cedric conversationally.

            Looking at the ice sculptures and the weather-proof rose bushes, Harry couldn’t help but agree. “It is pretty, if a little overboard, I think.”

            Cedric chuffed a brief laugh. “Only the best when it’s time to show off, I suppose.”

            “I don’t think Fleur was very impressed,” Harry said. “compared to Beauxbatons, apparently, _zis is nothing_!” Harry finished with a very bad French accent.

            Cedric laughed, a bit louder. “She does put herself on a bit of a pedestal, doesn’t she?” he commented. “Did Fleur say anything else interesting?” His voice had a slight edge to it and he looked at Harry sideways.

            “Oh, nothing, I was mostly listening for her to say she was in love with me,” Harry said with an odd bravado. “A bit jealous, Mr Diggory?”

            “Not at all,” Cedric said airily.

            Harry turned Cedric down a different path when he spotted Snape further ahead, too busy searching the bushes to have noticed the two students quite yet. “Knowing Snape, he’d probably take twenty points off of me for holding hands,” Harry said. “Or make up some other rule, if he’s in a particularly foul mood.”

            Cedric blinked. “Wow, he really does hate you, doesn’t he?”

            Harry gave Cedric a dubious look before he realized.  Cedric wasn’t a Gryffindor, was a top student, was definitely _not_ Harry and probably didn’t even share Potions with the Slytherins.  He’d probably never felt the brunt of Snape’s ire.  Hell, he’d possibly even treated Cedric _fairly_.  The thought was an extremely foreign concept to Harry.

            “Yes, he really does,” Harry confirmed, no small amount of bitterness in his voice.

            Cedric opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it.  Instead they continued their walk in a half-uncomfortable silence.  Harry regretted fouling up the mood of the date, but Cedric’s fingers remained entangled with his, warm and comforting.  The pad of Cedric’s thumb started rubbing circles onto the back of Harry’s hand.

            “So what was going on with Hermione, tonight?” Cedric asked tentatively.

            Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.  Ron was jealous that Hermione was going with Krum – I’m not exactly sure who he was jealous of, mind.” That drew a snort from Cedric. “And Hermione… likes Ron, I think.  Now they’re mutually pining and I just don’t want to get stuck in the middle of it.”

            “I feel a bit sorry for Krum, now,” Cedric said.

            Harry winced, “Me too.”

            Cedric followed up with, “Straight people have so much drama.”

            Harry laughed.  He laughed so hard he came to a full stop and take his hand out of his pocket to cover his stomach.

            Cedric moved to stand in front of Harry, placing his own free hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Are you all right, Harry?” Cedric said, talking through his own laughter. “I didn’t think it was _that_ funny.”

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said out of left field. “But it was, a little bit.  You have to admit that.”

            “Well, I’d hate to brag,” Cedric said.

            Harry managed to recover from his bout of laughter in a few minutes.  They continued on their walk – they’d reached the end of the courtyard and were beginning to turn back.

            “So I know that you’ve probably been asked this a million times already,” Harry said apologetically, “but what do you plan to do after all this Tournament business is over?”

            Cedric smiled. “You did phrase it a bit differently.  Most people ask me what I’ll do if I win.” Cedric’s smile dimmed slightly. “My Dad is already talking me up for positions in the Ministry, was even before any of this.”

            “So that’s it then?”

            Cedric shrugged. “He has a lot of expectations for me.  They can be a bit heavy at times,” Cedric confessed.  He looked at Harry with an assessing gaze. “I think you know how that feels,” he said, almost too softly for Harry to hear.

            “Yeah, I do,” Harry said, nearly as softly. “So is that what you really want to do?” he asked.

            Cedric bit his lip. “I really like Transfiguration,” he said. “And teaching.  I tutor a lot of the younger students in my year, and I’ve enjoyed it.”

            “I think you’d be a very good teacher,” Harry said. “Although I’d worry that some of the female student body would be rather distracted.”

            Cedric laughed. “So what about you, Boy-Who-Lived?  What do you want to do for the rest of your life?” Cedric said, then blushed. “Sorry, that was rude.”

            “It’s fine,” Harry hurried to comfort him. “I really like Quidditch and Defence,” he said simply.

            “So either a Professional Quidditch Player or an Auror,” Cedric said.

            Harry shrugged in agreement.

            They meandered their way back into the Great Hall to find that the crowd had thinned and calmed significantly.  The Weird Sisters were playing a slow a romantic tune and couples were slow dancing across the floor.  Harry didn’t spot Viktor and Hermione or Ron and Romilda anywhere.

            Harry agreed, although the intimacy of the slow dancing made heat rush to his face.  They found an open space and Harry was a bit startled when Cedric placed his hands Harry’s shoulders.  Harry fumbled in surprise for a bit before finally putting his hands on Cedric’s waist.  His nervousness quickly faded away as Harry found that leading a slow dance was much easier than leading a waltz, even if the fact that Cedric still had half a head of height on Harry made it feel a bit awkward.  They just swayed together in a circle.  Harry and Cedric made eye contact, and the action was so intimate that Harry found it a bit overwhelming.  To hide it he looped his arms completely around Cedric and eliminated the space between them.  Cedric clearly had no problem with this and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and nuzzled the side of his head with his nose.  Harry had his face hidden in Cedric’s neck.  His nose brushed against the skin there and he could smell Cedric’s cologne, something woodsy.

            They continued to sway for an indeterminate amount of time.  Harry didn’t pay attention, too lost in the scent of Cedric’s cologne, the feel of Cedric’s arms around his shoulders and the feeling of his own arms around Cedric’s waist.  Considering how wrapped in each other they were, Harry would later be surprised no teacher had stepped in to separate them.

            All good things came to an end, however.  The Weird Sisters played their last set and Cedric and Harry reluctantly pulled apart to join in the applause.

            “Is it okay if I walk with you back to Gryffindor Tower?” Cedric asked.

            “Oh, uh, sure,” Harry said.

            Cedric took his hand again, and Harry was liking how used he was getting to the feeling.  The corridors weren’t very crowded since most people had already gone to bed.  Cedric and Harry walked in comfortable silence.  The passages and stairways could have stretched on forever, for all Harry cared, but soon enough the portrait of the Fat Lady was looming ahead.  Cedric and Harry turned to face each other.

            “I was wondering if you’d like to join me on a walk of the grounds,” Cedric said. “Maybe the day after Boxing Day?”

            “Yeah, I think – I’d like that a lot,” Harry said.

            Cedric smiled. “I’ll send you a letter with a time, then,” he said.  He hesitated for a moment, indecision flitting across his features.  Then Cedric visibly steeled himself, tipped his head to the side, half-shut his eyes and began to lean in.

            The movement was slow, giving Harry plenty of time to object, which Harry had absolutely no intention of doing.  He tilted his head up slightly and tilted his head the opposite way and allowed his own eyelids to drop halfway.

            The last thing he felt before Cedric’s lips touched his was a hand coming up to cradle his neck.

            All things said, it was a very chaste kiss.  Their lips were pretty dry and no tongues came to be involved.  On the other hand it lasted quite a long while, and while one of his hands was still busy holding Cedric’s his other came up to latch onto Cedric’s bicep.  When they finally separated, both were breathing a little heavier from normal.  It could have been because neither of them had been exactly breathing, but it was doubtful.

            Cedric cleared his throat, face flushed. “I’ll be seeing you later then, Harry?”

            Harry smiled, “Definitely,” he said, not caring if his smile or his voice was a little dopy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: One of new my biggest pet peeves is when people write 'Defiantly' instead of 'Definitely'. If you ever catch me doing this, please alert me immediately.


End file.
